Shades of Gray
by athousandsmiles
Summary: This is where life was lived, in the shades of gray between black and white. House/Cameron


**A/N Beta'd by blueheronz, with my gratitude. Written for the LJ ficathon, for naika7, who wanted:**

**1.House and Cameron flirting (actually smiling at each other)**

**2.Cameron revealing something about herself**

**3.Mention of a previous HC moment.**

The sky was a blank canvas, just pure white as far as she could see. No clouds, not a trace of blue. Nothing. Which reminded her of her wedding gown; just yards of white fabric with no frills or adornment.

Six months later and she had packed away her wedding finery and found herself, instead, in a modest black dress standing over a grave; the two garments like bookends to a bittersweet marriage.

Life in black and white.

Cameron brushed past a couple strolling down the park's main path, a small child suspended between them, swinging and laughing, hat knotted under her chin and dangling down her back.

With a small sigh, Cameron realized that she was staring, reminded of what she didn't have, what she might have had, if only... Frowning, she turned away and continued toward the river.

People passed: joggers, couples, eager college students taking a break from their studies.

She met him on a day like this, and married him only a short time later. It wasn't pity or some twisted need to save him that made her do it. At least not that she was conscious of at the time. He simply swept her away right from the start with his infectious grin and the humorous twinkle in his eye.

_"You have a penny, Miss?" the clerk inquired, fingers busily pressing buttons on the register._

_She squirmed, face heating up as she dug through her pockets for that one simple coin. If she wanted to be a doctor, she knew she needed to get over her discomfort at buying these things. She should not be squeamish over anything that had to do with normal bodily functions. But god, she just wanted to get out of there before the rest of the store's patrons gathered in line behind her and stared at her with knowing smirks._

_Before she could check all her pockets, the man behind her plopped a penny down right on top of her box of tampons and said, "Here ya go," as if it was an every day thing to contribute to a girl's tampon purchases._

_They'd been eyeing each other all over campus: in the library, the bookstore, the square, exchanging flirty smiles, and now, here he was touching her feminine needs products and all she wanted was to crawl beneath the cracked tile and slip away._

_She grunted a thanks and silently urged the clerk to bag her purchase so she could flee the premises with whatever was left of her dignity. And just as she was walking (half running really) out the automatic door (which opened much too slowly), he caught up to her._

_"So I was thinking you could buy me coffee," he said, smiling into her eyes. "After all, you owe me."_

_A whole flock of hummingbirds took residence in her stomach when she looked into his face. She chose to ignore the reference to her tampons, and agreed to coffee._

_They walked to the little cafe, her bag stuffed under her arm, inconspicuously conspicuous. And then she stumbled a little, and the traitorous bag tumbled to the ground and tore, revealing the bent corner of the tampon box. Before she could react (beyond blushing furiously), he scooped it up and handed it back to her with a grin. And then he was laughing, and she was laughing, and she knew in that moment that she would love him._

Certainly, she was young and idealistic. She couldn't deny that. But she did love him. And then she'd fallen in love with Joe too and discovered that it was possible to love two men at the same time, and that life was lived in the shades of gray between black and white.

The wind kicked up; withering leaves swirled around her legs in a dance of impending death.

Pleasant.

The end of her scarf lifted as if waving to passersby. She grasped it in her hands and flung it around her neck, as if it had somehow betrayed her with its friendly gesture. Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she found an unoccupied bench facing the river and sat, just as a flock of geese scattered and took flight.

One bird remained along the shoreline, craning its head toward the river and back to the sky. Back and forth. Back and forth, as if it couldn't decide whether to stay or go.

She watched, mesmerized.

"Go," she finally murmured, unconsciously waving her hand in a shooing motion. "Go now, while you can, before winter sets in. If you're sticking around for a man, he'll only break your heart," she continued, a foolish grin appearing on her face for the first time in a long while.

"Projecting, Cameron?"

She turned, lifting her eyes to meet House's gaze, her smile fading like the afternoon light.

"House." Voice as flat as the ground beneath her feet, and just as unwelcoming. Somehow he had this ability to show up just when she wanted to be alone. "What are you doing here?"

Instead of answering, he lowered himself to the bench beside her and held out a plastic cup in silent offering.

She stared at it for a second and then took it from him, sipping from the straw and tasting just a hint of him in the frothy, caffeinated goodness. Closing her eyes and savoring the flavor, she wished it was possible to bottle it up (a little extract of House, sprinkle and enjoy) so she could taste it whenever she wanted.

"I didn't say you could have all of it," he scolded, wiggling his fingers until she returned the drink.

"I thought you were a whip man," she teased, nodding to indicate the lack of whip cream beneath the plastic lid.

"Depends on who I'm with," he deadpanned, a hint of a grin lighting up his eyes. "Question is, what are you doing out here?"

"It's my day off. I'm not allowed to go for a walk on my day off?"

"You're allowed." He paused, looking her up and down, and she could imagine the wheels turning in his head, running a differential on her. "But your clothes are wrinkled, you're not wearing make up, you have dark circles under your eyes, and you usually spend your day off running errands or doing girly things with one of your annoying friends. Which means, you didn't sleep well last night and now you're out here... clenching."

"I..." And then she sighed, because she was still a terrible liar despite the three and half years of practice under his tutelage.

"Today would've been our fifteenth wedding anniversary." She slanted a glance at him with a shrug that tried to be indifferent, but was more melancholy instead.

"Really?" he mocked. "I didn't even know we'd known each other that long."

"I meant my husband," she clarified, with an exasperated shake of her head.

"Oh right. Well, that's assuming you hadn't divorced by now," he retorted, eyes like laser beams burning through her skull.

Where once she would've rolled her eyes or scoffed at his cynicism, she now found it oddly cheering and chuckled instead. She had grown up enough to know he was right. They might not have made it. Idealism and love were not, in fact, always enough to keep a marriage alive.

"What? No speeches about how true love conquers all?"

"No," she answered simply.

They settled into a comfortable silence, watching the current carry fallen leaves downstream. House slipped an arm along the back of the bench, and Cameron inched a bit closer to him.

"This is almost... normal," he finally said, and she was surprised at the lack of disdain in his voice, because normal was practically a dirty word to House.

"That in itself makes it weird," she answered, glancing up at him with a smile.

"True." He favored her with a slight grin before looking away, and then he let his arm fall forward until his hand was cupping her shoulder and tugging her closer.

The gesture was not a declaration of love, but it wasn't meaningless either, she knew. It fell somewhere between nothing and something, somewhere between black and white.

The smell of impending rain hovered in the air, and off in the distance Cameron noted dark clouds moving their way.

_Shades of gray,_ she thought. _This is life._


End file.
